Well, I Guess The Intruder Can Stay
by LeonaWriter
Summary: Cyrus and Saturn share an apartment while they attend Canaclave, and Cyrus isn't unused to Saturn coming home late and drunk. The one he finds unexpectedly in the kitchen this time however, isn't Saturn. College/Uni AU with all characters in the around the same age bracket. Pre-shipping Cyrus/Dawn.


It was entirely his fault that he was out this late – he hadn't had to stay behind going over the details of his research paper time after time, again and again, but he had. He'd had to make sure that it was _perfect_. It wasn't merely for the professors, after all, but for his own curiosity and peace of mind.

So, when he found that the apartment he shared with Saturn still had its door open, he wasn't sure what to think.

Then again, Saturn, while he was better at taking his studies seriously than _some_ students Cyrus could name, was still far more susceptible to suggestion when it came to things like, say, one of his friends dropping by and dragging him off somewhere. His roommate had had to deal with Saturn's return at the odd hours of the morning more times than he could count, by now.

So the sounds of someone banging cupboard doors didn't _entirely_ come as a surprise.

What _did_, however, was that when he made it far enough in that he could see who was in the kitchen trying to – unsuccessfully, evidently – navigate it, the person was definitely _not Saturn_.

For one thing, they were certainly not male. Or blue haired.

Cyrus couldn't help but stare for a moment, unsure of what to do. Should he call the police? Should he try fighting? They might be a burglar, after all, and despite aiming more at the academic side of things than the battling side, he was proud to say that he was capable enough in both, rather than just one.

But-

"I don't suppose you're lost, are you? There isn't anything worth anything in there, by the way."

She turned around, and… ah. Sometimes he hated being right. Her face was red, with that distinct look of someone who had drunk too much.

"You…" her words were slurring, too. _Lovely_. "You're no' Barry? Who're you?"

"Cyrus Akagi. And this is my apartment. Just how much did you _have_ to drink to let you get _that _lost?"

"Oh. Sorry. I… I only had one… or two… I think… but then I was walking and I kinda got distracted and then I thought I was home but… hi?"

Cyrus sighed. At least his assignments were complete and with time to spare, but this was hardly what he needed – he had little enough sleep as it was.

"I've still got my shoes on. I'm guessing you live in the area, right? I can walk you back there."

"Y-you'd do that? You'd really…? I-"

He'd expected gratitude, maybe a little too much of the person getting into his personal space, since people tended to do that when intoxicated. But the girl launching herself at him, burying her head in his chest and starting to cry – that was more than he'd bargained for.

Especially when she wouldn't let go, and wouldn't stop crying.

His arms, which had been thankfully not quite at his sides or they would have been trapped, hovered awkwardly between wondering if he should be attempting to comfort her or be trying to extricate himself somehow.

If there was one thing he was sure of, it was that she was very, _very_ drunk, and she was also very _clingy_. He was reminded of the Lileep he'd learned about in one of his earlier classes, a type of Pokémon that stuck themselves to something and then just wouldn't let go until _they_ were ready.

Except this wasn't a class situation, this wasn't a _Pokémon_, this was a girl, and… he wasn't sure what to do with her.

Clearly, he wasn't getting very far with his idea of returning her to where she'd come from. And he wondered what would go wrong if he went ahead with the idea now, anyway.

Hesitantly, he reached a hand around to her back and patted, gingerly. The sobs began to slow down, which he took as a good sign, but she _still _wasn't letting go.

"Er… actually. Why don't we just find somewhere you can sleep here for the night? You'll be able to find your way home in the morning, and…"

He realised that he was mainly talking to himself, and stopped. Sighed.

When he tried untangling himself for the first time, it was only _then_ that he realised why she had grown so quiet.

She'd fallen asleep. On him.

Which was how he ended up carrying her over to the sofa, lying her down on it, trying not to accidentally touch places he shouldn't and hoping that she wouldn't wake up with too many aches from the odd position she was in, then turning her onto her side so that if she _did_ puke up, she wouldn't end up choking, because that would be the _last_ thing he needed.

Saturn himself walked in, not much better off but far more coherent, while Cyrus was calling the number that had in the girl's Pokegear.

"Wow. Didn't know you had it in you, Cy."

"If you weren't pissed, I'd remind you why you never call me anything but _Cyrus_ when you're sober. And I found her here," he said, eager to not make it seem like there was anything improper about this at all, especially when most of his friends – male and female alike – had been wanting him to find a significant other for some time now. "You must've forgotten to shut the door properly when you left earlier."

"Oh. Whoops."

_Whoops_. _That_ was the best he could do. A stranger had walked into their home, and all the root cause could say was 'whoops'.

The other line picked up at last.

"Hello? Is that Lucas? No, she's here. But she can't come to the phone right now. She's perfectly fine, however. Well… passed out on my sofa, but fine… no, that's okay. We can deal with it." Saturn shot him a look, mouthing 'We will?' with an appropriately incredulous expression. Cyrus sent him back a rude gesture. "Just give me the address and I'll make sure she gets back there in the morning. It's the weekend, so I don't have classes on – here, I'll give you my 'gear number…"

Saturn meandered himself over to his own room, where Cyrus could only assume he'd collapsed onto his bed from the sound of shoes hitting the floor.

He had to go back into the living room to sort his papers out properly before heading to bed himself.

Which would have been far easier if there hadn't been someone sleeping on the sofa.

A person he kept trying to avert his gaze from, because it was hardly right to _stare_. But at the same time… it was hardly as though, drunkenness aside, she wasn't _pretty_. He might prefer to be more rational and reasonable than some of the people he hung out with, but that did not mean he was _blind_.

He shook himself out of his stupor when he realised that minutes had passed and he'd ended up sat on the floor instead of picking things off the table, red-faced and berating himself.

He paused in the doorway. Dealt with the papers, and then came back with a blanket that was usually used just to set on the grass or sand, but it was clean and warm, and better than nothing.

...

Inspired by a list of AU prompts, and the setting _is_ 'college/university AU', so characterisation may seem off compared to canon, but also keep in mind how this isn't really a _normal, everyday_ situation.


End file.
